Pablo and the Play

 

Pablo looked at the crowd through the curtains. He knew he would not find what he was looking for, but he still looked. He scanned the faces looking for his parents. His father was working and his mother was at home with a colicky baby.

“Okay, it's showtime.” He turned to see Mr. Henry holding a plastic clipboard and directing traffic backstage. Mr. Henry acted as if he knew what he was doing. He didn't.

The play was a mishmash of different presidential moments and musical numbers. It was pieced together from lessons learned in seventh grade American history, a fitting tribute for Presidents' Day.

Ian, who played Washington, Lincoln, and John F. Kennedy, stepped out first for his part with Washington and the cherry tree.

Ian also played Mao Zedong to Pablo's Nixon, much to Ian's dismay.
Pablo remembers a conversation from earlier in the week with Ian. “Can we talk…about our together part?” Pablo asked with mangle English and a heavy accent.

“Are you serious Pablo? I can't. No, I have more important scenes to focus on.” Ian waved his hand dismissively. “Now go away, I need to concentrate.”

None of that mattered now, the show would go on. Pablo stared at him from across the stage. Ian was removing his George Washington wig.

Most students had two or three scenes. Pablo suspected his heavy accent was the reason Mr. Henry only gave him one. His Nixon Visits China scene was short, but it was important to him. Important enough that he practiced every day during the week.

Pablo walked back to the curtain and peeked at the audience again. They were laughing and snapping photos non-stop. The parents were enjoying themselves.

The play itself was a disaster. Students forgot their lines. Some were late getting on stage. Others went on at the wrong time. Pablo even doubted the historical accuracy of some of the scenes.

He aided others backstage as best he could. He helped with costume changes. He helped locate props. He helped move furniture. Mostly though, Pablo sat adjusting his wig and fake nose, waiting.

Near the end of the play, Mr. Henry came up to him. “I'm sorry Pablo, the whole thing is running a little long. We're going to cut your scene.”

Pablo was soft spoken and shy. Due to language barriers, it was hard for him to get across that which was usually crystal clear in his mind. His command of the language could not keep up with the thoughts in his brain. But not now, in this moment he understood Mr. Henry perfectly, and Pablo responded in no uncertain terms.

“You don't cut it. I practiced long time. Do not cut.”

“We just don't have the time, Pablo. Besides, it'll be hard for the audience to understand you…you know, 'cause of your accent. That and no one likes Nixon anyway.”

“I like Nixon.”

“You don't know Nixon. Your parents aren't even in the audience.” Mr. Henry flashed him the sign in sheet. His parents' signature line was empty.

“No! Not fair. This is not right.”

“Sorry Pablo.” Mr. Henry shrugged and walked away.

Pablo looked on stage. Ian was at the end of his flawless portrayal of John F. Kennedy's space speech. Pablo's scene was supposed to be next. Instead he saw Mr. Henry prepping Ronald Reagan.
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Pablo did not accept Mr. Henry's direction. As soon as Ian was done, Pablo ran on stage. He walked to the very front by the lights, formed two piece signs with his fingers, and held his hands up high in the air. The collar of the suit he wore wearing lifted up past his ears, framing his face.

“I am not a crrrook,” he said loudly, rolling his R's. There was a half second pause in the crowd, just before they erupted in laughter. Even Mr. Henry approved. He gave Pablo a high five as he ran back. All his classmates were laughing and patted him on the back.

When the show was over, Pablo's Nixon was all anyone talked about. It was more memorable than Ian's great performance. But the best part for Pablo came later. He learned that his father had come twenty minutes early to pick him up. He was present when Pablo stole the show.

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